Abomination
by Trapped In Narnia
Summary: In the quest for Peeta's medicine, Clove is killed by Thresh, and Thresh by Cato. Now Cato is after Katniss as she runs to save Peeta's life. Can she save them both with a sadistic killer stopping at nothing to murder her by the slowest means possible? And if she does survive, how will life change? PLOTTWIST! THIS IS RATED M FOR A REASON. Not a Cato/Katniss fic. Caution: rape scene
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hey guys welcome to Abomination! THIS IS NOT A CATO/KATNISS FIC! If that's why you're here hit the back button now. Also this is hardly an M story, but there is a lemon in here, so it had to be. Sorry. I do not own the Hunger Games. I'll say there's a big twist coming up! Thanks for reading!**

I can sense the emergence of danger before I see it. Fortunately, the first knife comes whizzing in on my right side so I can hear it and I'm able to deflect it with my bow. I turn, drawing back the bowstring and send an arrow straight at Clove's heart. She turns just enough to avoid a fatal hit, but the point punctures her upper left arm. Unfortunately, she throws with her right, but it's enough to slow her down a few moments, having to pull the arrow from her arm, take in the severity of the wound. I keep moving, positioning the next arrow automatically, as only someone who had hunted for years can do.

I'm at the table now, my fingers closing over the tiny orange backpack. My hand slips between it's straps and I yank it up my arm, it's really too small to fit on any other part of my anatomy, and I'm turning to fire again when the second knife catches me in the forehead. It slices above my right eyebrow, opening a gash that sends a gush running down my face, blinding my eye, filling my mouth with the sharp, metallic taste of my own blood. I stagger backward but still manage to send my readied arrow in the general direction of my assailant. I know as it leaves my hands it will miss. And then Clove slams into me, knocking me flat on my back, pinning my shoulders to the ground with her knees.

_This is it_, I think, and hope for Prim's sake it will be fast. But Clove means to savor the moment. Even feels she has time. No doubt Cato is somewhere, nearby, guarding her, waiting for Thresh and possibly Peeta.

"Where's your boyfriend, District Twelve? Still hanging on?" She asks.

Well, as long as we're talking I'm alive. "He's out there now. Hunting Cato," I snarl at her. Then I scream at the top of my lungs. "Peeta!"

Clove jams her fist into my windpipe, very effectively cutting off my voice. But her head's whipping from side to side, and I know for a moment she's at least considering I'm telling the truth. Since no Peeta appears to save me, she turns back to me.

"Liar," she says with a grin. "He's nearly dead. Cato knows where he cut him. You've probably got him strapped up in some tree while you try to keep his heart going. What's in the pretty little backpack? That medicine for Lover Boy? Too bad he'll never get it."

Clove opens her jacket. It's lined with a impressive array of knives. She carefully selects an almost dainty-looking number with a cruel curved blade. "I promised Cato if he let me have you, I'd give the audience a good show."

I'm struggling now in an effort to unseat her, but it's no use. She's too heavy and her lock on me too tight.

"Forget it, District Twelve. We're going to kill you. Just like we did your pathetic little ally... what was her name? The one who hopped around in the trees? Rue? Well, first Rue, then you, and then I think we'll let nature take care of Lover Boy. How does that sound?" Clove asks. "Now where to start?"

She carelessly wipes away the blood from my wound with her jacker sleeve. For a moment, she surveys my face, tilting it from side to side as if it's a block of wood and she's deciding exactly what pattern to carve on it. I attempt to bite her hand, but she grabs her hair on the top of my head, forcing me back to the ground. "I think..." she almost purrs. "I think we'll start with your mouth." I clamp my teeth together as she teasingly traces the outline of my lips with the tip of her blade.

I won't close my eyes. The comment about Rue has filled me with fury, enough fury I think to die with some dignity. As my last act of defiance, I will stare her down as long as I can see, which will probably not be an extended period of time, I will not cry out, I will die, in my own small way, undefeated.

"Yes, I don't think you'll have much use for your lips anymore. Want to blow Lover Boy one last kiss?" she asks. I work up a mouthful of blood and saliva and spit in her face. She flushes with rage. "All right then. Let's get started."

I brace myself for the agony that's sure to follow. But as I feel the tip open the first cut at my lip, some great force yank Clove from my body and then she's screaming. I'm too stunned at first, too unable to process what has happened. Has Peeta somehow come to my rescue? Have the Gamemakers sent in some wild animal to add to the fun? Has a hovercraft inexplicably plucked her into the air?

But when I push myself up on my numb arms, I see it's none of the above. Clove is dangling a foot off the ground, imprisoned in Thresh's arms. I let out a gasp, seeing him like that, towering over me, holding Clove like a rag doll. I remember him as big, but he seems more massive, more powerful than I recall. If anything, he seems to have gained weight in the arena. He flips Clove around and flings her onto the ground.

When he shouts, I jump, never having heard him speak above a mutter. "What'd you do to that little girl? You kill her?"

I get shakily up to my feet, clamoring over to my bow and arrows. Clove is scrambling backward on all fours, like a frantic insect, too shocked to even call for Cato. "No! No it wasn't me!"

"You said her name. I heard you. You kill her?" Another thought brings a fresh wave of rage to his features. "You cut her up like you were going to cut up this girl here?"

"No! No, I-" Clove sees the stone, about the size of a small loaf of bread in Thresh's hand and loses it. "Cato!" she screeches. "Cato!"

"Clove!" I hear Cato's answer suddenly incredibly close. I gasped, stumbling away. Where had he come from? What was he doing? Trying to get Foxface or Peeta? Or had he been lying in wait for Thresh?

Thresh whirls to the sound of his voice, but Cato is fast. With a cry of rage, he tackles Thresh to the ground, kicking away the rock. Clove, coming out of a daze of shock, blinks until her eyes settle on me. I'm almost to the tree line when her shock changed to fury and she pushes herself up to chase me. Unfortunately for her, I've had time to get ready with an arrow knocked and prepped. I will not miss.

She's on her feet now, pulling a throwing knife but she never had time to position it. Her eyes didn't have time to register fear really. Just one split second of a softened expression before the arrow struck through her left eye. The cannon blows and I lower my bow, eyes downcast. I just killed someone like she was an animal. Like she was prey. I sigh. In these games, the hunter becomes the hunted at any given moment and I hated it.

I sneak a glance at her and quickly wish I hadn't. Bile rises in me. What's wrong with me? Hadn't she just been ready to torture me to death?

A strangled cry jerks me from my thoughts. My head snaps up to where Cato and Thresh are fighting, and it's not looking good for Thresh. Cato had brought a sword to a fistfight, and from the amount of blood... Well… I didn't think legs were supposed to bend that way…

I turn on my heel to take off, but not before Cato's piercing eyes catch mine for a split second. As I fly through the brush they bore into my mind. The pure hatred there, the cold bloodlust practically pouring from them; those eyes haunt me. I don't even feel the branches and briars clawing at me as I run. I'm numb, running for my life, and for Peeta's.

That's when I hear the cannon's boom. It's Thresh's cannon, I'm sure of it. But if it was just now sounding, maybe Cato was just finished with him. Maybe he wasn't following me after all! Maybe I was being overly paranoid. I can't hear very well running though, so I pause agilely and quietly, listening.

Crack! NOPE STILL FOLLOWING ME! I take off like a bat out of Hell, my feet eating the ground up faster than they ever had before. I'm no longer worried about stealth; all I know is getting this medicine to Peeta without giving away his location. Both of our lives hang in the balance right now. I'm not sure how I'm going to do this though. Maybe if I can put enough distance between us I could lose him-

"WAIT UP FIREGIRL!" he calls from behind me, between labored breaths. Faster, faster, faster! I have to get out of his sight! I know the cave is coming up soon, but I can't let him find Peeta. He'd kill him right there and then. I'm barely out of Cato's sight now. Pouring it on to get a bit more distance, I know I have just enough time to get in and out of the cave without him seeing I'd ever been in there. It's risky and would possibly be the death of me, but I have to try. For Peeta.

As soon as I see the entrance to our cave, I dart inside, ripping open the package and yanking a syringe out of its sleeve. I stab it into his thigh, shoving down the plunger and sticking the sleeve back in the orange bag. I run back out holding the orange bag just as Cato crashes through the trees. With any luck he hasn't seen where I came from.

I reach for my bow, but he's too fast and he slams me into a tree. "Firegirl," he breathes heavily with his face inches from mine. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Yes, this is quite the pleasant surprise!" I growl sarcastically. His fingers wrap like a vice around my neck, and squeeze lightly. Not enough to choke me, but enough for discomfort, and enough to know he could kill me in seconds.

"I'll be honest, I didn't think you had it in you. But killing Clove like that," he smiles in that taunting smirk of his. "I'm actually impressed. It's a shame really. If you weren't District 12 filth we might have been allies!"

I struggle against him but it's no use. "Please! Like I'd ever want anything to do with an arrogant bastard like you who has his head stuck too far up his own ass to notice that he's just a little boy trying to look bigger by playing the bully. Face it, Cato! I'm not the one who's filth here!"

His hand is gone from my neck, but before I can even notice that, it has curled into a fist and connected with my jaw. The next thing I know I'm on the grass, clutching my jaw to make sure it isn't broken. Pain splices through me at each movement. Definitely not a good sign.

"You might want to be a little nicer to me, bitch! Don't forget you're at my mercy now, Firegirl!" Cato snarls, kicking me hard in the ribs for emphasis. As much as I want to scream out as it felt like spears stabbing through me with each breath, I know I can't give him that satisfaction. I won't let him win.

"I'll never be at your mercy!" I wheeze. "Burn in Hell!" I summon my energy and lift myself, aiming a hard blow for his temple. The swing is perfect! Or would have been, if he hadn't caught my wrist. I twist and pull away from him, but it's like iron holding my wrist. He twists it behind me and whispers into my ear, "We'll see about that."

Just like that, he snaps my wrist. This time I can't keep in the cry that rips from my throat or the tears that spill down my cheeks. Keep it together, Katniss. Don't think about it. "How's that?" Cato laughs. "Still think you'll never be at my mercy?"

The second I see those icy blue eyes, I spit in his face, unafraid, but not able to say much. I refuse to let him see me cower. If he's going to kill me, I will die with my dignity.

He wipes his face with his wrist and his muscles ripple menacingly. But what scares me the most is the joy in his eyes and the real smile of anticipation on his face. It made my blood run cold and adrenaline shoot through my veins. I struggle hard to get up, but he straddles me, sitting on top of my stomach. No matter how hard I try to push him off, he won't budge.

He pulls a knife and now I'm using everything I have in me to get away. This is it, if I don't get away now he will end me. I know he will, and it won't be fast! I have to get away! For Prim! For Peeta! I have to! I writhe underneath him but he only grins larger. "Get off me!" I gasp heavily, trying to get air into me through a Cato on my stomach and at least bruised ribs. It wasn't going too well.

Then all my pains are lost to one pain in my good hand. A knife, piercing completely through the edge of my palm, in one end and out the other, effectively nailing my hand into the ground. The tiniest vibration in the palm is enough to send me screaming in agony, but again I try to hold it in. Small whimpers and cries escape my sealed lips and betray me, the tears not helping much either. I will not break!

But Cato's not done yet, not even close. "Having fun yet, Firegirl? Don't worry. You will," he says as he plunges another knife through the same spot on my other hand. I bite my lip so hard blood rushes into my mouth, tears streaming down my face silently. My hands may be held down but my legs aren't! I roll up my knees and start violently twisting my legs in any effort to unseat him, but it does just the opposite. Cato's legs wrap around my thighs. Oh God, I think I'm gonna puke…

"Here's where the fun begins, Firegirl!" He leans close to my ear and whispers with hot breath in my ear, "Try not to enjoy yourself too much, okay? Wouldn't want people to get ideas, would we?"

"You're sick!" I spit, the taste of blood in my mouth. His sadistic smirk turns my insides cold. A second later, his lips are pressing on mine hungrily, peeling them apart and entering my mouth. I try to bite his tongue, but he's too fast. I can barely breathe as he's stealing away all my breath. When he pulls away for a second I gasp to find air. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear almost teasingly and says, "You ARE a little fireball aren't you?" The slightest inclination of his head brings his lips brushing mine. "I like 'em feisty."

A shudder runs down my spine and I find my whole body quivering. No, no this isn't right! I shouldn't be showing fear, I can't… I can't let him win! He thinks for a moment before leaning away and shedding his jacket and shirt, examining me with cold, yet burning eyes. It's a look I had seen in Clove before she was pulled off of me. I know it means pain.

With the tip of his knife, Cato draws a line down my shirt's seam, not caring when he dug into flesh. I flinch away from the pain, but the overwhelming agony in my hands quickly teaches me that squirming isn't going to do me any good. When he rips away the cloth of my shirt, something connects in my mind and I know where this is going. What he has in mind for me is far worse than death.

No. No no no! "No! Get away from me! I said get away! NOW!" I'm screaming and growling, but Cato only chuckles a bit, his filthy hands slipping under my sports bra. "Why don't you make me, Firegirl?"

Soon he begins to cut away my pants and shed his own. With all the dark hate-filled thoughts racing through my mind at two hundred miles an hour, I had the decency to pray that whatever happened wouldn't be televised. Please, please. Prim and Gale didn't need to see this. Hell, nobody should ever have to see this…

Cato has one hand on my chest, one hand in my hair and he's kissing his way down my neck sloppily, sucking hard as he goes. I know I'll have more than a few bruises if by some miracle I live to see tomorrow.

It's only when he presses into me that I finally break under him. I scream as loud as I can, a blood-curdling, bone-chilling scream. "YEAH!" Cato cries, delight in his smile. "Why so tight, twelve? Not so tough now, are you? Go ahead, little rat! Scream!"

He presses deeper into me. "PEETA! PEETA!" I scream, but I know it's useless. Peeta's still out cold and I have no idea how long he'll stay that way. I'll probably be dead long before he wakes up.

"Your lover boy's going to die soon! There's nobody that can come rescue you. It's just you and me," he chuckles, moving inside me, his hands and lips roaming all over my body. Pain rips me open where I'm most sensitive, and I thrash against him.

I don't mean to say it but as I scream the name forms on my lips. "GALE! PLEASE! Somebody help me…" My voice is dying, and slowly, so am I. I put all my energy into one last heave of my body to try and get Cato off, but it does nothing. Nothing at all. He's still in me and enjoying himself, and there's nothing I can do about it. Maybe dying wouldn't be so bad right now.

The strength is gone from me now and I'm limp under him. I'm honestly about to close my eyes and will death to come to me when I see something move behind Cato. It's Peeta, and he's leaning heavily against the rock, but he's not favoring his leg. He's healed. The tiniest of smiles appears on my lips. He's going to be okay, as long as he can make it against Cato. He's probably just still fuzzy coming out of his drug-induced sleep. He's not near me, but I can tell that even fuzzy-minded, he's pissed.

No, I want to tell him. Run! Get away from here. Maybe Cato's torturing me would buy Peeta enough time to get away and hide. But he staggers closer. A raspy cry leaps from his lips. "Katniss!"

Cato freezes, slowly getting up and refastening his clothes like he has all the time in the world. He winks at me, causing me to shiver involuntarily, before turning to Peeta. "Isn't this awkward?" he sneers. "It's too bad you'll never get to do her, Lover Boy. She was fun!"

"GET AWAY FROM HER!" Peeta cries, stepping away from the rock. He's a little shaky at first but he's walking fine now, our knife grasped shakily in his hand. Maybe, just maybe he could have a shot at winning this.

Cato holds himself high with pride, sauntering towards Peeta and leaving me broken and useless behind him. I've never felt more helpless. Cato is smirking, pulling his sword from its sheath. "And what're you gonna do about it, Baker Boy? Frost me to death?" he laughed. "Sorry about your Lover Girl. But I will say she really was on fire-"

"SHUT UP!" Peeta growled, throwing himself at Cato with every ounce of strength in his body, knife swinging.

But of course, Cato was prepared for it. He spun away and slashed at Peeta, slicing into his shoulder. "No Peeta…" I want to scream it, but all I can do is whisper. I want to get up and fight alongside him, to watch Cato get what he deserves, but my body wouldn't move. Every shiver that runs through me from the cold sweat covering me sends agony slicing through my hands and between my legs. I feel so dirty, like Cato's still inside me.

Cato makes a swipe for Peeta, but only manages to knick his arm. Peeta pauses, sweat dripping down his face already, waiting for Cato's next move. When it happens, he's ready. Cato lunges, dagger at the ready, but Peeta swipes a low kick at his feet, knocking them both to the ground. In a second, Peeta's over him, trying to press the knife to his opponent's throat. But Cato's smart and throws his weight, and the two of them are wrestling for their lives.

There has to be something I can do. Something… Cato and Peeta have both knocked the knives away from them slightly and are in the middle of an all-out brawl. Then all the action stops. Cato's claws wrap around Peeta's throat and clamp down.

"No!" I try to cry but barely any sound escapes my throat. Any adrenaline left in me rushes to my right hand. I hold my breath and squeeze my eyes shut. Quick like a bandage, Katniss. One, two, THREE! I rip my hand away from the knife with all my strength that I had left (which wasn't much), opening a massive rift in my palm, blood dripping from it instantly. I cry out, my voice breaking.

Peeta's gasping is the only thing that gives me the strength to use my screaming free hand to pull the knife that had been skewered through my palm from the ground. I'm weak and I have one shot at this. Better aim high. In, out. I take aim. In, out, in, release…

The knife flies from my hurt grasp and still dips low and kind of to the right, but I hit Cato's back. He snarls in pain, lifting away from Peeta to try and rip the knife from his back. The life floods back into Peeta as Cato turns and paces towards me. His cold blue eyes lock onto mine. Our blood mingles dripping down the blade.

Peeta scrambles for his knife as Cato approaches me, but I can hardly see past those haunting eyes getting closer and closer. I cringe left, in the only way I can go. I'm going to die, I'm going to die! I don't mind so much as long as Peeta gets away…

But no sooner has he reached me as he collapses to the ground, those hunters' eyes going glassy. "Wh-what?" I manage to choke out. Peeta stands where Cato used to, looking down at the body (which I now see has our knife standing out from the neck) with demons lurking behind his eyes. I've never seen Peeta like this and I never want to again. His gaze shifts to meet mine, and sorrow fills them. "Katniss," he sighs, dropping to his knees beside me.

Gently he leans across me and braces my hand with one of his, using the other to slowly pull out the knife. He's trying to be gentle, but it's agony. I whimper, trying to pull away, but it only hurts more. "Stay still," he murmurs as he removes it, laying it on the bloody grass beside me.

But I don't listen, suddenly realizing how exposed I am, I try to turn away from him. His gentle hand on my shoulder is enough to stop me. He shrugs out of his jacket and shirt, helping guide my arms into the sleeves of his jacket. My broken wrist screams in protest, but eventually I'm in the jacket with only a couple of cries of pain. Peeta drapes his shirt over my abdomen, trying to give me back some modesty. He moves so he's behind me and lets me lean back on him. I look up into his eyes and everything spills out. My frustration at my own weakness, how I failed Prim and Gale, how they must be so disappointed in me, my guilt at Peeta's shoulder wound, how I've let down all of Panem, all of it spills out hot tears down my face. The great Mockingjay has fallen.

"Katniss, I'm so sorry! Why did you go? You promised me you wouldn't leave! It was supposed to be me. I was supposed to die for you. You were supposed to win!" Tears drip down from his cheeks into my hair. "You would have been safe in that cave, you could have stayed there until he starved. You would have been okay. Katniss, I'm so sorry! I should have protected you. I'm sorry… so sorry…"

I try to lift my trembling hand to his face, but I can't. Again, I curse my weakness, but he catches on and guides it up to his cheek. "Thank you, Peeta," I whisper, a small smile on my lips.

He smiles back and leaned down to kiss me gently. When he pulled away, he looked around. "We won right? Where's the hovercraft? The fanfare?"

He's right. Why haven't they come to get us? As if in answer to our questions, Caesar Flickerman's voice booms through the arena. "Attention tributes. The previous revision to the rules allowing more than one victor has been…revoked. Only one victor may be crowned. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

Peeta and I lock gazes for just a second before I drop it. He gently lays me on the ground before standing up, and that's just fine with me. I'm actually wondering if there are ways of actually killing yourself by losing will to live in an injured state. That's happened before right?

Peeta is pacing in front of me, his hands clawing at his hair. "How could they do this to us? After all we've been through! Building up our hopes just to bring them crushing down on us! It's not like we can just not do it, they'd set mutts on us or something, and you're injured…"

"You're injured too, Peeta…" Ouch. After screaming so much, my throat's raw.

Peeta waves me off. "It's nothing, Katniss, don't worry about me. We have to do something…but…there's nothing we can do, is there?" I shake my head minutely, closing my eyes. I'll die for Peeta. I'm no good as the Mockingjay anymore anyways.

"Katniss? Katniss, how bad did he hurt you? What did that bastard do to you?" When I didn't answer him, he shook me slightly and the pain made me wince. He got the message and stopped. "I need to know you'll live… I need you to kill me, Katniss."

My eyes sprang open. "What?"

The deadly calm in his eyes shook my core. "I need you to kill me. You need to go home. For Prim. For Panem. I can't live knowing I've failed you like this." He ran a hand through my hair.

Did he think I could? Did he not see me, broken in front of him? "No! Peeta! Can't you see I'm already dead? You're more use to them all right now than I am. Go home, Peeta. Just walk away, please."

"No. I'm not leaving you! Not now, not ever. Never again."

He stooped to kiss me, holding me like I was the most precious thing in the world. And when I feel worthless and dirty, that's all I need. "Together then?" I asked him, pouring nightlock into my hand, and dumping a few in Peeta's as well.

His eyes dart from the berries to my face. "Together. One."

He touches my hair, his fingers trailing my face. I count, "Two."

"Three."

**AN: No, this isn't the end. This is not a one-shot. New chapter coming soon! Sorry if this thing is in very bad condition. I need a beta. I may go back and edit this if someone decides to be my beta (I have an idea but if Alessia decides not to, I'm open to betas! But yeah, this is a rough draft. I was just so excited to publish it, I've had this idea for a while. REVIEW PLEASE! **

**V**


	2. Chapter 2: Coming Home

**AN: Hey! I'm not dead! I just haven't had much inspiration for this story, but I'm trying to continue it, so I do apologize if it's not as good as the first chapter or if the writing slopes downhill from there. But here's chapter 2!** **~Trapped In Narnia**

The Games feel so distant now. The Capitol has tried so hard to make Peeta and I look like it never happened. All the scars are gone. The calluses, the dirt and grime, the blood, even the broken bones have all vanished as well. And the hearing is back in my ear, so bonus.

But no matter how hard they try, they'll never erase the memories. As the mentors say, 'you can take the tribute out of the Games, but you'll never take the Games out of the tribute.' Peeta and I are headed home to district twelve now, finally. I thought we'd never leave. As soon as it seemed we were done, there was always some important person to meet, some fancy dinner to attend, some interview with colorful lights and people talking at once. It was enough to drive me insane.

As much as I'm glad to have left, I'm nervous about what awaits me at home. I'm still not sure how much of the sick finale they aired across Panem, and I don't want to have everybody in my district looking at me with pity. My eyes fall to the overly plush bedspread beneath my hands. I can't take it if they all see me with pity. I'm no longer the Mockingjay; the Girl on Fire. Now I'm Katniss Everdeen, the kicked puppy who couldn't defend herself against a Career. My fists clench at the thought, and it's all I can do not to throw one of the ridiculous room decorations at the wall in spite.

I tap the round remote to try and distract myself. One of the walls of my room lights up and there's Caesar Flickerman with his trademark cheesy smile, talking to none other than Peeta and myself.

"So, Katniss, that was a risky move, putting your life on the line for Peeta's medicine. A risk that almost fell through for you. Now that you know the outcome, would you still have gone?"

On-screen me smiles a huge love-stricken smile at Peeta. "I would do anything for him."

The crowd lets out a chorus of awwws. Caesar then turns his interest to Peeta. "Peeta, what was it like waking up for you?"

The smile drops off of his face. "All I heard was her screaming. I thought she was dying but it was much worse… I don't know whose big idea it was to give her knock-out drugs, but they were wrong. I should have protected her, Caesar. She shouldn't have gone."

"But if she hadn't, you would have died!" he gasps in extremely fake horror.

"I wouldn't mind dying for her, if it would spare her all this pain." On screen, he squeezes my hand. The crowd erupts in cheers, and Caesar has to quiet them.

"Young love, folks! There's nothing more powerful. Now Katniss, you also moved us with a particularly memorable moment here. Let's take a look shall we?"

As soon as the screen shows me cutting Rue away from the net, I slam on the remote to turn off the TV. Rue. She told me I had to win for her, and I did. I click off the light and crawl under the bedspread. Looking up at the virtual night sky ceiling, I wonder what my ally would think of me now. It's nice to think that maybe somebody out there still sees me as the Girl on Fire.

As my eyes close and reality starts to fade, I swear I can hear her whistle…

_I'm running. Trees blur around me, but I can't focus on them right now. All I can do is run towards the voice of my ally. "Katniss! KATNISS! KATNISS HELP!"_

"_RUE! I'm coming! I'm coming, Rue!" I cry, but the thick brush seems to be fighting me, pushing me back. When I finally break through the thick growth, the sun blinds me momentarily. I blink, trying to make out something. I call for Rue, but I don't see her. Soon my eyes adjust to the bright light though and I see it wasn't Rue at all calling for me, but Prim. She's stiff as a statue, locked in the vice of Cato's grip, his sword pressed to her throat._

_I fall to my knees. "No. Not Prim. Please. Kill me instead, just don't hurt her!" I beg._

_Cato says nothing, only smirks, locking that cold hunter's gaze onto me. He opens his mouth as if to say something, and then slits my sister's throat._

"NO!" I wake up to my screams. Are these really tears in my eyes? I gasp, wiping them away and peeling the hot sheets from my sweaty skin. Keep it together, Katniss. I pick up my glass of water and drink it down. Keep it-

The door starts to open slowly. Reflexively my hand goes behind me to grab an arrow, but there's nothing to grab, so I do the next best thing and tighten my grip on the glass. Light begins to flood in my room and ever so slightly I see blonde hair begin to enter my room and suddenly it's throw first think later.

The light flicks on as the sound of shattering glass fills the air. Luckily for a very frightened Peeta, the glass missed by a good foot. "Katniss, it's just me!" he cries frantically, and then his eyes soften when he sees the position I'm in. I'm covered in a thin sheen of sweat, the soft sheets sticking to my legs while the comforter and half the pillows are strewn across the floor. He opens the door and walks toward me slowly, perching on the end of the bed. "I heard screaming so I came to see if you were okay."

I can't meet his pity-filled gaze, so I look away. "I'm fine."

He reaches out to touch my cheek gently, but I can't deal with this right now. I just watched my beautiful sister get murdered. I jerk away from his touch and curl up against a stray pillow. "I said I'm fine, Peeta!"

A couple seconds past and I knew Peeta was considering what he should do. As he is shifting his weight to get up and leave, my body betrays me and silent tears make my body tremble. That little movement was enough to make the decision for Peeta. He laid beside me and wrapped me in his arms, shushing me like a child. At first I recoil form his touch, but after the first shock, I'm lost in his embrace. Peeta's gentle hand is unlike the ones I feel in my nightmares, and I quickly drop into sweet, dreamless sleep.

"Up, up, up! It's going to be a big big day!" Great, my first good rest in a while, and here comes Effie tromping down the hallway with huge clops that made me wonder if her shoes were made from horse hooves. At this point, I can't really say I'd be all that surprised.

I roll over and grab a thick warm pillow, burying my face in it to make the noise go away. Just as the thick dizziness of dreamland is about to pull me back under, I hear the door burst open and a gasp. I blink awake to glare at Effie, but when I look at her she seems to be suddenly interested with everything in the room except me. Confused, I glance around, only to find that my nice warm pillow was actually a Peeta.

"AH!" I cry, releasing my hold on him so fast I actually fall off the side of the overly large bed. Peeta calls my name and tries to catch me, but luckily there was a pile of fluffy pillows already on the ground. How did Peeta get in my room? Why was he in my bed? What-

And just like that all the events from last night came to mind. Oh! OH. I look up at Effie from the floor. I realize what it must look like, me wearing only my pajama shorts and silky camisole and Peeta, shirtless and in his pajama pants. Not to mention all the blankets and pillows strewn on the ground and her walking in to find me sleeping against him… Yeah. OH. "No, no-no, no it's not what it looks like, I swear-"

Effie just holds up her hand. "You don't have to explain yourself. I'll be in the dining car, breakfast is served," she said before exiting. Peeta pokes his head over the side of the bed and holds out a hand to help me up. I take it gratefully. "Sorry," I manage.

"It's alright, Katniss," he laughs lightly. "I'm just glad you finally got some rest. I'm going to go change. Will you be alright?"

"Of course," I say, folding my arms. Maybe some of the old strong Katniss still lives in me. The thought makes me smile. Peeta smiles too, places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes lightly before turning to return to his room.

When he's gone I head to my closet in hopes of finding something that doesn't repulse me. I step in, almost blinded by all the bright colors. Hesitating, I begin to check the racks for something that doesn't make my eyes burn. Everything is my size, but the idea of myself wearing this stuff makes my head spin. The sad part is that I can picture it. I can picture myself in the spiky puff sleeves and five inch heels and a skirt that was half neon teal, half dark fuchsia. I smile to myself at the picture, and even more when I picture Peeta's face. I pause at the mirror, seeing myself on the verge of laughing. For a moment I'm conflicted. I'm happy that smiling doesn't hurt like it did at the Capitol. We must be getting close to home, but on the other hand, I think of Rue and all the hundreds of kids that have died in the Hunger Games. I think of the twenty-two that died just this year. Faces I had seen not too long ago, faces that belonged to children who used to smile like this. The smile dies on my cheeks.

But didn't every Victor feel happy to go home? I find a white cotton t-shirt and some denim pants, heading to the dining car after quickly braiding my hair. Peeta is already there, piling a plate full of French toast, one of his favorites. After last night's dream I don't have much of an appetite, but I grab a few sweet rolls and a mug of hot chocolate. Effie nibbles lightly on a pastry with delicate fingers, pausing only to talk to us. "Now you two better eat up, quick quick quick!" she says gleefully. "Cinna and Portia want to have some time with you two before you go home."

I don't think I've ever seen Effie this happy. "Where's Haymitch?" I ask, not having seen him since we first got on the train. I finish my first sweet roll and reach for a second.

Effie sips a colored drink quickly and giggles, "Who cares? You two are Victors. Victors! From my very own district! And District Twelve at that! Ah, I simply can't contain myself! Now off you go! Off off off! There's no time to waste!" She shoos us out of the room, both of us having to abandon most of our food. Not that I really mind, I just hope Peeta isn't hungry.

We're ushered into separate rooms. Cinna waits just inside mine, arms out for me. It's the first time I've seen him since before the Games. "Cinna!" I cry and run to him. He hugs me tightly, like a father hugs his child and backs away. "I knew you could do it," he says quietly.

I smile at him. "I'm alive because of you. Without all those sponsors I would have died from that first burn. I can never thank you enough."

"All I did was give you a pretty dress. It was YOU that made an impression. Now come on, let's get you changed to go home."

"I'd like that very much." My prep team rushes inside in a flurry of color and protest. I can't help but smile at them. I have seen them a lot lately, always dressing me for parties and events. You'd think they would have gotten used to my "grossly obscene" fashion choices by now. "Denim, Katniss? Really, you're better than this. And COTTON! Oh my, what are you going to do without us in District Twelve all that time! My heart stops just to think. You'd think the whole district had never heard what dye is. Into the shower with you, you poor sheltered child."

I shower quickly, for once not smelling like an odd cross between something fruity and a flower patch since the prep team actually knew how to use the complicate showers. I come out with skin softer than a baby's and hair smelling really nice. I try to place what exactly it smelled like, but I can't. Some sort of cross of jasmine and honeysuckle and fresh earth after rain. I place my hand on the dryer and my hair falls straight around my face.

"Now that's more like it! Flavius, I want those wisps away from her eyes! I'll start her nails. Octavia, can you get her make-up started? Cinna said minimum with pinks and browns on the eyes. What color for her nails, you think? I was thinking of going with…" I tune them out as they work over me feverishly. I bet it doesn't take very long to get Peeta ready. Certainly they don't put make-up on him too, do they? That'd be really funny if they did…

Sooner than I expected, the prep team announces with joy that they had finished a masterpiece. I look at them like they're crazy as they leave. Cinna reappears to help me into my dress, which hangs concealed in a black bag. When I see it, I gasp.

Cinna helps me into it. The dress is short, with a tight-fitting bodice that seemed to literally give off a golden-orange glow when the light hit its shiny silken fabric. The fabric changed from gold to shades of crimson in the shadows. Below my waistline, this silken fabric began to taper out over the flare of tulle to my mid-thigh. It was beautiful. I was flame. However, the shimmery heels that he wanted me to wear, not so much. But I agree, knowing this was the last time I'll see him for a while.

"Goodbye, Girl on Fire." He hugs me one last time. "Never forget who you are."

"I won't. Goodbye Cinna. Thank you. For everything." We part, walking together toward the door of the train where Peeta and Portia wait.

"Time to go. See you again, Katniss. I'm still betting on you." I smile. His face is the last thing on my mind as the door slides open and together Peeta and I step into our district. We're finally home.


End file.
